The Tenth Ringwraith
by The Maiden Nemias
Summary: Read the story untold of Iahkshmial, Sauron's tenth Ringwraith. King Duristahn fell into shadow when he accepted the Devil's Diamond from Mogruith, and his kingdom fell into the hands of Sauron the Deceiver.....
1. Iahkshmial

Duristahn's Tale Iahkshmial  
  
A tale untold of the tenth Ring Wraith; taken from J.R.R Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings", which I do not own.  
  
'Twas a night of fair weather whence I sat, staring over the battlement upon my kingdom of old; Rokuin in the land south of Gondor, the Breorn realm. I of which owned, being that I was King Duristahn. About in the east, a dark rider drew forth in the twilight upon a horse as black as onyx. Intrigued as I easily became, I leaned further, my weight pressed against the stone balcony, the coolness of the icy surface seeping through my trousers and upon the skin of my naked thigh. Who could this be? One who rode with remarkable speed, as if he was pursuing a dangerous foe or had such news as a highly esteemed oracle was deemed to deliver? I knew not. If I had, the mysterious rider would have been sent forth back into the shadow of whence he emerged, unfulfilled and unanswered. Below me, the low braying of the Rokuin horns rose upon the air, sounding all around me; for this rider had approached the gates and sought entrance into my castle. Footsteps tread upon the flagstone behind me, almost as instantaneously as the sounding of the horns. Turning swiftly on my heel, I saw naught but ten paces away my chancellor, Roengad. "A messenger from Mordor wishes to speak to His Highness." He spoke with uncertainty. The very kind that caused his voice to quaver. "Mordor? He has come for Sauron?" "That is what he has claimed, your Highness. His errand is of much importance. Nothing else has he let on." "He may enter. As long as we are on better terms." "This is what His Highness King Duristahn demands. It is my duty. Upon my life, would I dare to refuse." In salute, Roengad withdrew his sword and pressed the hilt against his bosom. He quickly dispersed and took to the halls. "Mordor? Sauron?" I murmured. A feeling of dread stirred within me, and yet I was too proud to admit that danger thrived in the very words. "What has he that I am so greatly required to administer to? What is it that he wants?" I furrowed my brow in thought. I could have never discovered on my own what lay in this enigmatic situation. Alas, how dense I was! Bull headed and strong. Young and unrefined. What a King I was! Yea, I possessed an army as strong as Gondor's and riders to match those of Rohan. But is it merely strength in armies and wealth in land and riches that make a great King? It was that that I had been impressed. I was a fool. Whilst I was steeped in thought, I heard Roengad return. He was not alone. "King Duristahn, the messenger from Mordor seeks your counsel. I have brought him to you, my liege." I looked upward, my eyes meeting a man swathed in flowing black robes, his face hidden beneath the mantle of a hood. And yet, a part of me questioned if this was really but a man. After a few moments of silence, I found voice to speak. "Reveal yourself to me. 'Tis disrespectful to conceal yourself. You are to bare all in the presence of a King." A shifting of the robes indicated to me that this stranger understood my command. Black hands reached upward, drawing back the hood. Such a sight to steal away my very breath greeted me. This man, or be it a creature of the darkness, had a face ravaged with scars. His eyes were sightless to me. The pupils gray and bland. How wicked he appeared. So much, I wished to retract my very own demand! He smiled at me. His lips curling upward, baring sharp and pointed teeth. My grimace had brought him much pleasure. "Speak. Why are you here, and whom do you call yourself?" "I am Mogriuth. I come in service of Lord Sauron. It is true that we have fought wars in our pasts and our differences remain irreconcilable to this age. The Dark Lord asks for a truce. Come now, I have lived to see those times, judging that you have not." he countered. His voice was low and cacophonous, and possessed a venomous edge. He twisted his vile features into yet another snarling smile. The dread within me resurfaced. "I have no time to waste on such sly talk. What is it that he asks?" "Nothing. It is his condolences that he sends. It has been his wish that in accordance to all others, that you receive a treasure more rare than any your kingdom could ever obtain." "Out with it, you repulsive creature. I feel I may grow sick if I am tainted with your ghastly presence much longer." Mogruith laughed quietly. A rasping sound, like the breathing of that of a person who's throat has been cut. "You shall not be disappointed." His crippled black hands searched within his robes, while Roengad gripped his sword hilt, growing ever wary. Mogruith drew from his robes a leaden box, and held it out before me with outstretched hands. I stared at it for a moment's time. I could not decide whether I would accept what lay within. As I steadied my hand, my fingertips inches away from it, I sensed an energy emanating from it. It was a queer feeling. Of one I had never experienced. A heat. A burning; as if this leaden box was wreathed with flames. I felt that I would be foolish to ask of what bewitchment was upon it, because at this time, I believed nothing of the sort. I had driven wizardry and the crafts out of the Breorn borders. I felt that such nonsense would poison my flawless existence. "What devilry are you trying to offer hither? Do you actually intend to make a mockery of me?" "No, no. Nothing of the sort. It is a gift. Naught but a gift." In a disparaging proof, he opened the box, and all that I saw was a ring. A single ring. Crafted from the thinnest silver and wrought with utmost skill about a large, shimmering ,black gem. "Devil's diamond..." I whispered in awe, for devil's diamond was a rare find in the lands of Men. The gem was precious and worth more weight in gold. Indeed, this was more than my kingdom could obtain. It was then that I was taken in by this trinket of deceit. It was then that my empire fell. For as my greedy heart accepted this ring, my very own soul paid the price.  
  
Mogruith smiled maliciously. Sauron the Deceiver had claimed the tenth kingdom for his own. He had yet to unfurl his plan of domination. He had yet to begin the destruction. I had willingly thrown myself into the abyss. And so it is true. The hearts of Men are easily corrupted. This is whence my sorrowful tale began, I, Iahkshmial of Sauron's RingWraiths. 


	2. The Fall Of Roengad

Duristahn's Tale The Fall of Roengad  
  
"And so it begins" whispered in Mogruith in satisfaction. I had betaken of the ring. Upon my finger it rested, so beautifully dark, glinting sinisterly. 'Twas true. My kingdom had strength a thousand time's more than my rivals, for I now wielded the power of the devil's diamond. A power so great that even I could not harness it, but at the time, I knew not of what fate had befallen me. Roengad looked stricken. But I could not see him. All I could see was my greed, my very own death, personified in such a lowly, but grand form. "Sire," Roengad began with uncertainty. He was not sure it was his place, but he could not let me fall into shadow, therefore he spoke. He was the most loyal of my subjects and would willingly die for me. And for that he would never be forgotten. "Sire, you cannot take of the ring. It was wrought by Mordor craftsmen in the fires of Mount Doom. It will do naught but destroy you--" "When I ask you for your wretched advice, then thou shalt know! I order you to remain in silence or I'll have you hanged!" I screamed in passionate fury. The ring's malice and dire intentions had begun to taint my soul. My gaze which had been looking upon Roengad in utmost wrath fell once more to the cursed gem. "All has been done." Mogruith turned to leave down the halls, for he sought exit from this place. In the name of Sauron, his mission was accomplished. His dark deed fulfilled. This kingdom which would soon fall to ruin. Roengad, who's hand had been clutching the hilt of sword, could no longer stand idly by and rose upon Mogruith with a flash of his blade. "Turn now and face me, you heinous fiend! In the honor of my King , King Duristahn, I shall have your head! You will not leave Rokuin alive!" Mogruith rounded and sneered at Roengad. " Son of Breorn, do you honestly expect to defeat me? For you are sorely mistaken. It will be my pleasure to eat your innards from the blade of my sword and bring your head to Sauron in triumph! There is nothing in your power that you can do to save this fool's soul." Amongst the utterance of his last words, he withdrew his sword; which had been concealed within his robes. This was no ordinary sword. It was a Baradurian Blade, engulfed in flame. At the unsheathing of this magnificent Mordor weaponry, the band upon my finger began to scorch my skin. I screamed in agony, staggering about whilst the ring began to glow an eerie red and the stench of my burning flesh filled my nostrils. Roengad, whose attention had been diverted from Mogruith, looked in dismay upon me as I fell to my knees weeping. Filled with rage, he swung his sword in a wide arc, narrowly missing Mogruith's head. The Mordor messenger ducked and with a murderous roar and baring of his fangs he beset his blade into Roengad's thigh, moving so swiftly that he was all but a dark blur. Roengad collapsed upon the ground at his feet. Mogruith then raised his flaming sword above his head and sent it plunging downward in an attempt to behead the fallen chancellor. But Roengad quickly rolled out of the striking range and heard the sickening clang of metal against stone. He crawled to his feet, daring to not look upon the gaping flesh wound he had suffered. Tears streaming from his eyes, he fought onward and the deadly battle turned into the likes of a fencing match. As the twilight fell into darkness, the flames on Mogruith's blade illuminated all in its presence, and I could see both the fear and anguish burning in Roengad's features. I rose to my feet, having lost all feeling in my finger and stood, looking on in horror as Roengad's leg went out from beneath him and he fell with a loud thud. It was then that Mogruith drove the Baradurian Blade into his heart. He stood erect, towering over Roengad in triumph, drawing his sword out of the stiffened form. Mogruith crouched down and slashed open Roengad's stomach, his innards spilling out onto the stone. He then reached into the gore and wrenched out a length of intestine and began to eat it, ravaging what was left of such a noble man. "No...no..This cannot be!" I moaned, for remorse had fallen upon me, and it was more than I could bear. Mogruith turned his hideous head and smiled, blood falling from his lips. "All that could have been is lost.....as of now, your soul belongs to Sauron, and you can do naught but accept your fate. It begins. Your race shall fail and you shall fade..." Mogruith stood and sheathed his sword, as I fell once more to my knees. "Please..." I begged, although I do not know what it was that I beseeched of him. If it were salvation that I sought, I would surely not find it in this creature of the shadow. He felt no remorse. He felt nothing. And I was doomed the same. He turned away, his black robes billowing in an intangible wind, and disappeared into the darkness. "What have I done?? What ---" I was overcome with guilt, babbling inanely and weeping in defeat. Out of the dark came the thunder of footsteps as a dozen of my men came rushing towards me waving torches in the inky blackness. "My Liege, what has happened here??? How has Roengad fallen?" came a voice. I could not look at them. I was too ashamed. "Mordor messenger.....killed him..where is he??....has he left the gates??" "Nay. No one has left the gates....." "Where is he?? WHERE??!" I roared. "He must die!!! We must destroy him!!!" "He's gone mad..." another voice murmured. The same voice, I assume, belonged to the man that tried to lift me to my feet. "Don't touch me!!!!!!" "You need to be attended to, Sire. We cannot leave you here. You must go to your bedchamber and rest...." "Leave me be!" I screamed as I wept. I had been reduced to a blubbering idiot, a weakness and a flaw for all to see. "Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhgggggggrrrrrgggghhh!" At that moment, I was seized by several hands and uplifted. By the light of the torches, I could see the puddle of Roengad's blood, spreading vastly over the flagstone. I could hear the men whispering about me, as their grip on my flailing limbs tightened. "Devil's diamond?" "How has it gotten here?" "'Twas the messenger...." "I knew that tragedy would come of this...." "Roengad? Wherefore?" "Only the King knows, Mortimir." 


End file.
